Jerry's Victims: From The Good, The Bad, To The Pure Evil
by Vendehla
Summary: Jerry's victims from his past, before he lived in Las Vegas, are revealed from his point of view.
1. Preface

**AN-I am inspired by shows like Castle and America's Most Wanted for comprising my fan fiction. Before it discontinued, I loved watching Cold Case. I liked the way an episode would begin from that particular show, with scenes from a different era, long ago, along with the music that was popular during that particular time; that particular time that an unsolved murder took place. There are other shows such as Haunted History, Ghost Adventures and The Dead Files, that I like to view for ideas. There was even a channel called ID (Investigation and Discovery) that I tuned into, when I had cable. That channel features stories about real life villains (and villainesses) and actual murder cases. Regardless of the crime incidents, most of my characters will be fictitious. Whatever I write about will not be the most comforting, so please read at your discretion.**

***I disclaim everything that belongs to Fright Night.**

Preface: From Jerry's POV

For those of you who are not familiar with me I am Jerry Dandridge. I was a vampire, residing in Clark County in Las Vegas. Before I was staked in the heart by my neighbor, Charley Brewster, I survived for practically 400 years. I drank enough blood for four centuries, that could fill an ocean. I was a vampire and blood was my sustenance, what else can I say. Since I was stabbed with a stake that was blessed by St. Michael, my soul has been set free and I no longer walk the earth as a blood drinking beast.

I did whatever it took for me to survive, while I was a vampire. It was in my nature. I was not able to control my urges, all of the time. At times, I acted if I was being, or felt that I was being, threatened. It may have appeared that I preyed upon any individual that breathed, but I have to be honest, not all of my victims were innocent suburbanites. True, I got a hold of Ed Lee and Adam Johnson, but they were out to expose and destroy me, just as Charley and Peter Vincent were. Again, I acted on instinct and impulse. As I indicated, not all of my victims were decent and civil individuals. Some of my victims were so corrupt, they almost made me look like a saint. I got a hold of accomplices and murderers. We are talking about humans harming other humans. You will see as my story continues.

I honestly admit regret for killing those who were harmless. I do not blame them for trying to destroy me. I would have done the same if the shoes were switched. Again, I am no longer a vampire. My soul is no longer occupied by the evil force that made me to turn on and feed from mankind.


	2. Maxine Bolger

Chapter 1

Maxine Bolger

***I disclaim everything that belongs to Fright Night. I only claim the fictitious character Maxine Bolger**

I was residing in Chicago during the summer of 1893. The opening of the World's Columbian Expo, known as the The Chicago World's Fair, was kicking off. It was the celebration of the 400 year anniversary of Christopher Columbus' arrival into the new world. I managed to get a job doing evening construction at the fair. I fixed the rides and the moving walkway, or travelator, as some Europeans referred it to, when needed. I made my home in an old abandoned building, that was once a small bank. The windows were boarded up and the floors were completely gone; there was nothing but dirt, where the floors use to be.

Two miles from the fair, there was this three story, one block sized building, perceived to be a hotel. That was where I first encountered her, Maxine Bolger. I saw her lead another woman to the hotel. With my vampire hearing, I listened as she spoke of employment opportunities at the so-called hotel. I watched from a nearby window as Maxine brought the perspective employee before the hotel owner, Dr. Henry H. Holmes. After Holmes and the other woman were introduced, I saw him take the visitor upstairs.

Maxine headed out after the two disappeared. As soon as she was alone, in a darkened alley, I approached her. We bumped into one another and she was about to pardon herself, but froze when she gazed up at me. I used my hypnotic ability to put her in a trance. I zeroed in on her jugular, retracted my fangs and struck. I drank enough to weaken her but not to the point of draining her to death.

When Maxine regained conscience, I bit my wrist and brought the wound to her mouth. She drank enough to focus and here is what she told me about her business with Dr. Holmes. Dr. Henry Howard Holmes was really Herman Webster Mudget. His hotel by the World's Fair was an actual death trap. The rooms had no windows and the doors opened from the outside only. There were small peepholes in the walls for Holmes to spy on his victims. Gas lines were hooked to the rooms, and once the victim was unconscious from the fumes, Holmes sent their bodies down a chute, that lead to the basement. He also placed his victims in an old bank vault that was labeled the asphyxiation room. There the victims died of suffocation. Holmes tortured the victims in his basement before skinning them and selling their skeletons to major universities and medical schools.

All of that sounds like something out of B-horror movie flick. You are probably wondering what Maxine had to do with Holmes. She was a prostitute and Holmes found her, while she was searching for clients. He was about to make her into a victim but instead to a liking to her. Holmes promised her a steady salary that was higher than what she was making turning tricks, if she brought him some victims. Maxine took him up on his offer since it was way too good to pass up.

Maxine brought over 20 victims to Holmes before I confronted her. They were mostly blonde headed, young women; for some reason unknown, that was what Holmes preferred. Maxine mentioned job opportunities at Holmes' fake hotel to the victims. Sure enough, Holmes promised them jobs on one account. They would allow him to take out for life insurance policies, in which he would pay the premiums, and allow him to be their beneficiary.

I turned Maxine and together, we hunted for victims of our own. We even caught up with Holmes in St. Louis, where he was arrested for the first time for horse swindling. Instead of biting him, I hypnotized him into forgetting Maxine Bolger. Sure enough it worked because after Holmes was arrested in Boston back in November 17, 1894, and tried in Philadelphia, he confessed to all of the murders, including that of his henchman carpenter Benjamin Pitezel and three of his children. Holmes/Mudget tried telling the court that he was possessed by Satan. Still, he was sentenced to death and was hung on May 7, 1896 at the Moyamensing Prison. He also became known as America's first serial killer.

As for Maxine and me, our relationship did not last. She turned on me and tried to stake me. Maxine missed my heart, unfortunately for her. I pulled the steak out and she gazed up at me with her eyes and mouth wide. The wound healed and as she brought her hands up before her astonished face, that also had a look of disappointment, I grabbed both of her wrists. I shook my head at her and told her "That isn't how you do it," drove the stake into her heart and ended, "This is." Her whole body turned completely into ashes.

Maxine, once a serpent always a serpent, and as it has been said, a serpent may shed its skin but the skin never changes. Maxine Bolger was on the missing persons' list, but not once was she ever mentioned in the history books and shows about partnering with Holmes. By the way, Holmes' murder castle had been torn down and a U.S. Post Office sits in its place. To this day, there are rumors of hauntings occurring in the basement of the post office.

**AN-For further information regarding Dr. Henry H. Holmes/Howard Mudget, America's first serial killer, please check wiki/H._H._Holmes. Information on Holmes and The Murder Castle in Chicago can also be found on youtube.**

**Reviews are welcomed.**


	3. The North Side Nomads

Chapter 2

The North Side Nomads

*I disclaim everything that belongs to Fright Night. Please note, rape and violence are mentioned in this chapter, which might be discomforting for some.

_Here comes the hotstepper, murderer__. __I'm the lyrical gangster, murderer__. __Pick up the crew in-a de area, murderer__. __Still love you like that, murderer__. __No, no we don't die__. __Yes we mul-ti-ply__. __Anyone test will hear the fat lady sing_…"Here Comes The Hotstepper" by Ini Kamoze

It was a hot evening, Labor Day weekend in 1994. That was when I spotted them along Pecan Oak Bayou, in Houston's North side. They were Jose Luis Cortes, D'Andre Trahan, Antonio Serna, Esteban Portillo and Vicente Armenta, who called themselves The North side Nomads. Jose Luis was their leader, who I killed last. He watched in horror as I ripped and fed from each member of his crew. The smell of his fear was intoxicating. I dodged his attempts to escape from me. He pleaded with me in Spanish and English, "No! No! Por favor! Don't kill me! No me matas! No one was around to hear Jose Luis scream out in pain before dying.

Before I preyed on those gang members, they were in the process of hiding the bodies of 15 year old Sonia Salazaar and 16 year old Madison O'Connell, who they raped and strangled to death. Before the police discovered the girls' bodies, I noticed shoe prints on their throats, along with markings of a cord, or whatever strangulation device was used. After the discovery of the bodies of the gang members and the girls was reported on the news, 15 year old Christian Paloma, the only surviving Nomad member, turned himself over to the police.

According to Christian, after his initiation into the gang that night, the boys spotted the two girls as they were making their way home. The gang leader, Jose Luis, and the others thought that one of the girls was another guy, who they were going to pounce; Jose Luis was still sour over losing a fight with Christian during the initiation, in which he got plummeted by the 15 year old. First the boys grabbed Sonia, who began screaming. Madison raced after and two of the boys jumped on her.

The girls were raped repeatedy, orally and anally. Jose Luis turned to Christian after he got through with Sonia and told him "Get some." Sonia stared up at him with her tearstained face, shaking her head no pleadingly. Jose Luis hissed at Christian to hurry up and get on with it. While Christian was carrying out the act, he overheard one of the guys boasting about getting virgin blood from one of the girls on his dick. After he was done, Jose Luis demanded that he go home and keep quiet about everything. Christian did as he was told, unaware of what the rest of the gang had in store for the girls.

If the gang murderers lived and got arrested, they would have been tried and sentenced to death. The ones who were under age 18 would have faced life in prison. Christian was tried and sentenced to 40 years in prison for aggravated sexual assault. That had to have been the longest sentence for anyone that young to ever receive. The girls' parents, Abraham and Lourdes Salazaar and Kevin O'Connell, along with his first wife, Renee O'Connell-Hlavac, were confronted on the news after Christian's trial. They felt that whoever or whatever it was that killed that gang, those boys got their "just desserts."

While Christian was waiting to be transported, I attacked the bailiff and slipped on his uniform. Luckily, it fit me. I fetched Christian from his cell and had him follow me into a nearby exit. While we were at the stairwell, I fed off of him and later on I turned him. So he went from loyal gang member, to jailbird, to a vampire companion. What a good one he made. Christian was reported missing but was never found.

As far as his family was concerned, Christian was the only child; it was only his mother and step father, who he did not care for, that we needed to take care of. Christian appeared before his step father, while he was reclining in his Lazy Boy. He wondered how the hell he got away from jail and that was when Christian's eyes went black. Using his sharp, shark-like teeth, he tore at his step father's throat. Blood shot all over the chair and a nearby lamp table. His mother refused to join us, so we had no choice. I ended up draining her.

Christian and I raided other gang members' and hoodlums' turfs. We fed off of them and looted whatever we deemed valuable. Unfortunately, Christian was staked by some crack dealing thug. That son-of-a-bitch thought that he could do the same to me. I caught him by his arm, and broke the bone into little pieces. His screams of pain were music to my ears. The rest of his gang ran off in terror. After I ripped his throat, I managed to find the rest of his posse and did the same to them.

**Please review.**


	4. Cynthia Davidoff

Chapter 3

Cynthia Davidoff

*I disclaim everything that belongs to Fright Night.

_One of these nights. One of these crazy old nights. We're gonna find out, Pretty mama, what turns on your lights. The full moon is calling, the fever is high, and the wicked wind whispers and moans. You got your demons. You got desires. Well, I got a few of my own. Oo, someone to be kind to in between the dark and the light. Ooo, coming right behind you, swear I'm gonna find you one of these nights_…"One Of These Nights" by The Eagles

I was in New Haven, Connecticut back in August of 1975. I was leaving a nearby pub. That was when I spotted her. She was a Yale law student, named Cynthia Davidoff. She was an attractive young woman, with brunette hair that hung at her shoulders and green eyes. Talk about a combination of beauty and brains. I have to admit, she had the makings of a "Breck" girl. Cynthia was having car trouble in the middle of the night, and was making a call to someone from a phone booth. Back then, there were no cell phones. Few people were lucky to even have mobile phones. By the look on her face, she was not having any luck finding anybody to pick her up and/or look at her car.

She was all alone. I was thankful for that. I was also in luck when I noticed her Star of David pendant gleaming from her chest. She was Jewish. She had no faith in Christ, let alone crucifixes. No matter how hard one tries, unless you have faith, crosses were useless against me. My insides rumbled. I needed blood and I needed it right away. Human blood.

Cynthia was digging for more change in her purse when I approached the booth. I startled her when she looked up and saw me before the entrance of the booth. "Oh," she started, "If you need the phone right away. It's free. I need to find more change, so it's going to take me a while." Cynthia stepped out of the booth. "Please, " she insisted, "Go right ahead." "I don't think that I will be needing the phone," I told her.

"Well then, my car is stalled and I need to call someone to come and get me, so if you will excuse me, I need to get back, please," she said as she started to make her way back inside the booth. "Is there something I can do?" I asked. "I will be okay," she told me, "I have a few more numbers, but I think that I will try my roommate back at the apartment again. She should be home from work." Then, she pulled out a dollar bill from her purse and asked me, "You wouldn't by any chance have change for a dollar would you?" As I reached inside my pocket, pretending to fish for change, I acted like I was going to retrieve the dollar from her and instead I grasped Cynthia by the wrist and gripped it firmly.

"Excuse me," Cynthia began to say. Instead she found herself staring into my eyes. As my eyes blackened, she went into a trance. I stepped inside the phone booth. I placed her arms around my waist and placed my right hand along her upper back. I brought my left arm around her shoulder then swept her hair away from her neck. Some homeless bum started knocking on the booth for us to hurry up. I showed him my fangs and hissed at him from behind the glass. He was off in seconds flat. I knew, though, that I had to hurry and finish what I started.

With Cynthia's neck exposed, I bent my head back, exposed my fangs, and quick as a wink, I struck. Her blood oozed down her neck as I drank. She was still in a trance, so she never struggled. Being that I was tremendously hungry, I drained Cynthia completely. Sad to say, she did not survive.

I ended a young life that had a future, that had potential. I broke the hearts of Cynthia's family members and friends. Her parents, Yoel and Margit Davidoff, who were Holocaust survivors had to come face-to-face with another tragedy, only this tragedy ended with the loss of a loved one. Cynthia's body was sent to her parents in Brooklyn, where she was buried in a Jewish cemetery. Her roommate and friends gathered around the phone booth, where she was murdered, and placed flowers and candles around it.

As a vampire I did not regret what was done. However, I am not a vampire anymore, and yes, I am remorseful for what I did.

**Please post your reviews and/or your suggestions. I will come up with more stories. I just cannot guarantee how soon. Summer vacation is drawing to a close for me and I will be back in the district, attending workshops and preparing my room.**


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